The Roman Way
by TheTinyBlackBird
Summary: Maecillia is a Roman woman with a soft spot for slaves. Her opinion far exceeds her time, yearning to free as many as possible after incident in the past. Accompanied by her body slave and her stipator, she sets out in hopes of offering them a better life. She urges those she frees to seek out Spartacus, but to her surprise, gets more involved than she could ever imagine.


Hello there! I hope this story won't be too horrible to read and hope someone can enjoy it. :)Feel free to review if you'd like! This is my first story here, please be gentle haha. ;~; :D

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 **Chapter 1**  
 _Gauls_

High noon had arrived and Maecilia was anxious to head out to the port. Dressed in a gorgeous red gown and decorated with the bright, matching jewels her mother insisted upon her wearing day in and day out, she paced about her chambers restlessely. Soon, Saahira would arrive and they could depart. Her long, pale blonde hair had been curled and pinned, tugging at her scalp uncomfortably. The gown, as beautiful as it was, constricted her movements and snatched the breath from her breast. How desperately she wished to change into something more comfortbale, and something less...prominant. But she knew that traveling through the market would mean meeting family friends, even unwillingly. They sometimes prowled the city like hungry felines. When their gaze caught sight of their prey, they pounced and indulged in boring political discussion.

When her door finally creaked open, Cilia was at it in an instant, heart pounding and ushering her body slave inside the room. "There you are! Are you prepared to take leave?" The house slave gave a small, unsure smile in response. She was about Cilia's age, beautiful and shy. She had dark brown hair that fell naturally wavy, something her domina always teased her about good-naturedly-but out of envy of course. It fell just past her shoulders, and portions were braided to keep from invading her face. She had large, dark brown eyes that, in the right light, lit up brightly to a near hazel color. She was dressed just as simply as any other house slave and stood with her hands laced neatly together in front of her.

"If mind has settled upon decision, Domina." Cilia let out a breath in a near laugh and clasped her hands gently upon her friend's shoulders.

"I am through with my mind waging war upon itself and leaving me sleepless with uncertainty," she answered with a grimace, Saahira raising a hand to rest it on one of Cilia's arms in comfort. "This-this I am now sure of." Yes, she would finally return to what she knew was right, what she disregarded prematurely many years ago. This time, she would do so properly and keep the deeds in conference with only her most trusted companions. She was nervous and scared, but mostly she felt guilty. All of those slaves she condemed with her foolishness and lack of secrecy. Allowing her parents-HER parents-the most Roman Romans she'd ever seen aside from Crassus himself, to know of her intentions. All of the slaves she condemned by doing nothing since...She would not make the same mistake again, not while she could still vividely make out the faces of her lifeless, horrified friends when she closed her bright, emerald eyes.

"Whatever be your will, my friend. I will stand alongside you." It was Cilia's turn to smile, ripped from her troublesome thoughts, though it too was a small one. While she had made up her mind, the act of her will could prove to be troublesome. She was betraying all that her family had stood behind, their word and the Roman way. She would be coming face to face with potentially ruthless foreigners, freshly captured slaves just arriving to Neapolis. Many would be angry and powerful. Seeking them out herself, with only a house slave and a stipator beside her, was risking not only her family's punishment, but her life in the hands of those she sought to aid.

"Let us seek out Osgar." With a quick squeeze upon her friends shoulders, Cilia moved over to her vanity and opened one of the lower drawers. From it, she retrieved a small coin purse and quickly hid it beneath her dress. On her bed was a small pack that she retrieved and handed to her friend. She took Saahira's hand and the two left the bedroom hastily.

Osgar, like Saahira, was of Syrian descent, and held the accent and appearance to place him as such. He bore naturally tanned skin and dark hair that had long since been shaven to reduce unnecessary maintainence. He was fairly young and strong for his age, having been sold to a Ludus for a few years as a potential gladiator. He had not faired well and was sold again to Maecilia's family.

Osgar was a stipator, a guard-yet still a slave-that had been assigned to her while on their visit to Neapolis. He was another servent of the Cassiana family that knew of Cilia's kind heart. While he wasn't as open as some of the other slaves, nor as trusting, he regarded her fondly. She'd never raised hand or voice to any of her 'slaves', so she was quick to gain some of his trust. Once the pair reached the entrance to the villa they'd been staying, Cilia released Saahira's hand and allowed her to trail behind as they fell into sight. She smiled and nodded her head to those she passed, hands laced elegantly in front of her once more. It did not take them long to find Osgar positioned outside the main doors of the villa.

Sword at his hip and shield in hand, he regarded her with a quick bow, which she returned with a nod. "I require your assistance. I will need another escort to the market, if you would be so willing." The market, always a wondrous excuse. Her trips there were not rare-particularly in a city she was not native to-though they were not always warranted either. Regardless, that was what she would tell her mother and father should they ask at dinner.

"Yes, Domina," he replied, and she nodded, turning on her heel and leading him to forth with Saahira still at her back. Osgar never questioned her, whether or not it was because it wasn't his place or that he didn't care was lost on her. She was simply grateful for the support.

"Gratitude," she said with a smile, "We shall depart immediately." And so they did. To the market they did venture, but they did not linger long. Occasionally, she would stop to converse with family friends as she'd feared. High-born. The blonde could hardly believe she was born to the same class as these other Romans. They were so different in so many ways. Cilia bit her cheek and smiled through the dull exchanges regardless. When they were finally free of any obligation, she took the opportunity to lead them from the market to the port, glacing back a few times to ensure no one raised question at her departure.

They arrived at the port in fair time. The scene was that filled with chains and coin. Slaves were inspected and bartered for, hands and ankles chained and connected to their brothers and sisters to prevent an easy escape. Gauls, Syrians, Greeks and so on. None too foreign to the slave trade. Some, she noted, still held their fiesty nature. As Cilia approached, she raised the hood of her cloak. It was entirely possible for someone there to recognize her, and that she was not too keen on risking. Though she'd thought of excuses regarding her presence, being recognized would still become an issue. If her parents caught wind of her true location that afternoon, they would relize her intentions immediately.

She fell into the system of walking along the display of slaves by their masters, inspecting them as the other potential buyers did, but in a much different light. She knew she could not free them all, but she would help those she could. Many of the strong looking, healthy men she overlooked, knowing full-well they would be able to handle themselves better than some of the women and children being sold. However, the more she considered this, the more she questioned the decision. What would these women and children do with their newfound freedom, simply being turned loose into the wilderness? They may be hunted like those she'd freed so carelessely before, or die easily to the elements. They may find safe passage back home, but would they be captured again?

She had paused in her trek, brow furrowed, and soon felt a hand on her arm. "Domina?" The quiet voice pulled her from her thoughts, and her light brown eyes quickly found Saahira's concerned face. The concern made her blush slightly, and she looked back to the chained slaves a few paces before her.

"Do not mind me, Saahira, I am merely thinking." Her friend nodded, but kept a close eye on her. Beyond her trouble in making another decision, the sight of the slaves and their condition was a hard one to bear. It was highly disturbing, seemingly only to her, as the other Dominus and Domina were smiling through their exchanges. As she walked and observed, she came no closer to making a decision on what kind of slave to purchase, instead finding herself more and more disgusted with such a system.

When she reached one of the final lines, she gave pause, watching as the slave master unloaded the rest of his lot from a ship. The last two men were rough-natured, the last in line having shoved the master away from him with his shoulder after he was given one sharp yank on his chains too many. This earned the slave a swift fist to his cheek. To the master's surprise, he was then suddenly face to face with the other enslaved man, this one pushing him away from the first by rearing up on him like an un-broken horse, pushing him back with his bare chest and shouting heavy words at their assaulter in a vaguely familar language. Cilia recognized it as being used commonly by the Gauls.

Those around her giggled at the exchange, and erupted into laughter when the master struck the second Gaul as he had the first, shoving him back and making him lose his balance. He fell onto his back, and in turn took the first Gaul down with him, along with the next man in line. More shouting from the Gauls, more laughter. Cilia frowned distastefully as she watched.

Finally, the Gauls were silenced when a whip was revealed and cracked onto the more rash Gaul, slicing across his chest and back with the tip cutting his cheek as it was yanked back. She did notice that the first Gaul had tried to calm the second with hushed words and glares at the master. This did not save the feistier of the two from a prompt whipping, however, making Cilia turn her eyes downward and bite her lip. Even after his whipping, the second was still spitting fire under his breath and glaring daggers at the master. He was silenced by another crack of the whip in his direction and turned his glare downwards, breathing heavily and attempting to regain his honor by standing tall even with his newfound injuries. Had it not been for the calmer of the pair, she feared the one currently huffing and puffing would have been executed right then and there.

With an air of victory, the slave master turned to the crowd that had formed, opening his arms grandly with whip still in hand.

"Quite a show these dogs have put on for their new masters!" The crowd erupted into cheers and even more laughter. Cilia felt her stomach churn, though she found some joy in knowing that a portion of the laughter was for him as well, having lost control of his slaves in such a manner. She wondered how many would spare coin to purchase the Gauls after such a display, though she was aware many would want them merely for the challenge of breaking them and using them as gladiators. "Now," the slave master exclaimed, drawing attention back to himself,"who will take on the challenge of breaking these boistrous, unruly savages!" He began the auction, more Dominus and Dominas taking part than Cilia had anticipated. The Gauls in question stared straight ahead, no longer glaring at those wronging them. The purchase was coming to a close, as a prominent Roman pair had just offered a large number of denarii. The slave master asked for any additional offers, beginning his countdown.

Before she realized it, Cilia had raised her hand and placed fifteen denarii ontop of the latest offer, met with a few seconds of silence to see whether or not another would raise hand. The slave master recovered quickly and after no other offers were placed on top of her, declared the Gauls sold. He then continued on with the rest of the slaves, much of the crowd dispersing now that the entertainment had been purchased and was well over with. The rest of the trading and auctions took a few hours to complete, but the two Gauls were the only slaves she purchased. She didn't want to overwhelm herself, or make a mistake.

Though...perhaps a mistake had already been made in purchasing two Gauls-and unruly ones at that. When it was time to pay for her slaves, she approached calmly, hiding the uncertainty from her face with a friendly smile. "What might a young, high-born Roman woman be purchasing these savage Gauls for? Intending to use them as gladiators? Surprising your husband with new toys?" He laughed at this, and she winced, but maintained her smile.

"Yes, the fights. My husband was unable to accompany me on this day. He's far too busy with his political duties," was her quick response with a dismissive wave of her hand before handing over the coin she owed. "I'm sure he'll be quite pleased." Well, she didn't have a husband, but this mongrel of a man was none the wiser.

"He will, indeed! These are the finest Gauls of the bunch. Look at how powerful they already appear to be. Imagine just how strong they will be in the fights with rigorous training. They will be amusing for your husband to make kneel." Look at them she did. Dressed in simple subligacula, the pair were dirtied and caked in dried blood from the fights they'd already taken part in. Their faces were unshaven and hair long, eyes fierce but tired from their journey. The daring one bled from the sharp line on his chest and the multiple upon his back from his whipping. The cut on his face had bled as well, but was now drying over. Gauls were well known for their honor and pride, and these two attempted to maintain both as they stood under her gaze. Neither made eye contact. Indeed, they appeared strong, likely warriors from their homeland. Her heart ached at the thought of their loss. She was no fool, she knew of war and how slaves were taken. Once her pity had passed, she felt the anger she'd become familiar with again build up in her breast.

The slave master completed the transaction and handed the Gauls' chains to Osgar. He took them with a bow and Cilia shook the mongrel's hand, making note to wash her own thoroughly afterward. With that, they carried on their way, now late into the evening. The sun had begun to disappear, coating the sky in brilliant orange and red. The streets and the market had thinned out as people retired for the night. She led her small group towards one of the city's exits, but the Gauls were, at that moment, of course unaware of the fact. The fiesty Gaul was the first to break the group's silence from the back.

"Do not think we will fight for a groomed cunt like you." He hissed gruffly, though Cilia continued walking. She hesitated for a moment in replying to him. The other Gaul stayed silent, and she could imagine him comically rolling his eyes.

"I do not expect you to," she said neatly, lowering the hood from her head as they approached one of the gates.

"We won't fight for your tiny-cocked husband either," was the growl she got in return. She chuckled softly, earning another growl rumbled out from his throat.

"I have no husband." This was met with silence, and this time, she dared a glance over her shoulder, smirk in place across her lips. The gates were opened, as per usual, and no guards paid her any mind as people came and went frequently. Whether or not they would notice her leave with four slaves and only return with two, were up in the air for her. As they left the city limits, she heard the Gauls begin whispering to one another. It took them only a few more minutes to get where she presumed to be far enough and out of sight through the trees before she stopped the group, turning on her heel to face the Gauls.

Saahira stood behind Maecillia, watching the Gauls nervously. The Gauls themselves, looked from each individual, confused. "What? Leading us all the way out here to execute us?" The Gaul still had a sharp tongue, even when suspecting death was soon to come. Cilia ignored him.

"What are your names?" She questioned, turning to Saahira and nodding. The girl stepped to her and took her pack off, opening it and pulling clothing from inside. From it, she revealed two simple tunics and sandals, holding the items in one arm while she fished around the bag some more. The Gauls, transfixed and even more confused by the clothing, were silent for a moment before, finally, the quieter of the two spoke.

"I am Caio, and he is Artair." The one named Artair turned his glare on Caio, snarling at him. Cilia merely nodded.

"So you are already acquainted?"

"We are brothers." That explained their fondness and protective nature of one another. Cilia smiled kindly.

"My name is Maecillia. This is Saahira and Osgar," she replied, gesturing to her companions in turn. She then looked between the two of them before speaking again. "Have you heard of the one they call Spartacus?" She gave them a moment, and by their silence, they hadn't a clue. "He is a Thracian, and he was a slave to a mildly prominent couple in Capua, where I am from. He had become the Champion of Capua, a gladiator in the fights your slave trader was speaking of."

"Why would we give a fuck about who one of your little pets are?" Artair cut in, beginning to test his chains.

"This pet, as you call him, bit the hand that whipped him one time too many. Spartacus ordered an attack on his ludus, his dominus, and killed everyone there. Well. Almost everyone..." She added thoughtfully, "His fellow gladiators of the Batiatus Ludus turned on their masters and successfully escaped. He seems to have struck up a rebellion. After killing Batiatus, he ran rampant around Capua, launching numerous attacks from wherever they've been holed up outside of the city. These attacks are part of the reason I am here in Neapolis. Father thought it to be too dangerous to stay. I can't say I disagree. I digress. That is the latest I know of Spartacus' rebellion, but I urge you to seek him out." It was quiet for a moment before anyone spoke, the Gauls seeming confused and Artair, still angry.

"What?" Caio arked a brow at the woman, surprised by the sudden turn in events for he and his brother. He surely didn't trust this woman, but he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. Suddenly, his brother burst out into short bout of laughter.

"And once you free us from these chains, what stops us from strangling you ourselves? Your dog there? Or your bitch?" Caio cut him a harsh look at the suggestion, but it went unnoticed. Cilia seemed to consider this for a moment before she gave a small, indifferent shrug. She had already taken such things into account.

"Not much, I suppose. I would order my friends away and you would kill me. Unfortunately, Saahira and Osgar would be forced to recount every detail concerning the attack, and then would likely be killed for letting me die, despite that running would have been a direct order from me. Then, they would hunt the two of you down and make a public event of your execution. It truly wouldn't work out for any of us-only the Romans." Artair only scoffed, sneering at the whole situation. Caio seemed...thoughtful, if anything else from what she could tell.

"You're a bloody Roman," Artair hissed, "We could easily kill all three of you."

"I agree to the possibility. Though, my friends here have done nothing to offend you." Saahira peeked up meekly.

"They are not your friends. They are your slaves," Caio muttered, now glaring at her as his brother did, though with slightly less menace. Cilia cracked a small smile.

"They are my friends, my companions. I've never treated them as anything other than that." Saahira again dipped her head, chin nearly touching chest. Osgar stood ever stoiclly. Cilia held Caio's challenging gaze.

"You have them well trained, there's nothing more than that," Artair snapped, drawing back her attention from his brother. She looked down from his eyes to the bloody line on his chest.

"Your wounds need to be treated, lest they get infected." He half laughed, half scoffed in response, but she ignored him, instead turning to Saahira for the bag. She took it graciously and walked over to the Gauls, getting a step or two away from them for the first time. For the first time since going on this endeavor, she felt a bit...frightened. Artair stood taller than her by at least a head, his brother not far behind that. She knew they looked strong, but this close to them, she could see perfect outlines of their bulging muscles, the sweat coating their bodies, injuries she hadn't noticed before, scars...They were frightening. They could easily kill her if they wished to. But there would be many more she could aid if they did not. "Please sit, you need your strength and I need to clean your wounds."

"We will not kneel to you, you fucking cunt." Cilia felt her eyes roll.

"I am not asking for you to kneel, but to relent in order to avoid illness." She walked around the two, pausing before reaching out a hand and gently touching one of the thick lines across Artair's back, making him growl and react without hesitation. She couldn't deny she hadn't thought it would happen, but the blow felt as though it'd sent her reeling even though she only stumbled.

"Artair..." She heard Caio hiss. A warning. Hands cupping the offended cheek, she lifted her head slowly, the bag forgotten on the ground. Osgar had made an advance, but had stopped, face hard and eyes narrowed slightly. Saahira had her hands drawn up to her face, eyes wide and body stiff in anticipation and fear. Cilia had asked them not to attack the slaves, no matter what may happen in their endeavor unless a risk to their own lives. Made them promise her. She was unsure of how long that promise would be kept if more abuse were to occure or become common.

Finally, she let her eyes rise to Artair, narrowed and hard.

"Sit." His own glare had not relented, eyes flaring in anger and chest heaving.

"I do not take orders from fucking Romans," he snarled, holding his place half turned to glower at her with head held high.

"Please." This plead brought a laugh to the Gaul's lips, also bringing forth a cracked grin from Caio.

"The cunt begs." His chuckle made Cilia turned her eyes downward, beginning to feel frightened and even moreso humiliated. Artair had turned from her back to face his brother, apparently through with the conversation. When Cilia looked up once more, her gaze found the Gaul's bloodied backside. He was not at full strength, and even more weakened by his recent punishment. His laughter was hollow, and his legs surely begged for rest.

Slowly, she closed the gap between them and reached forth a hand once more, this time resting it upon his lashed flesh. She pressed her fingers against the cuts hard, blood flowing past them and down her hand, earning a sharp hiss from the Gaul before he moved to turn on her once more. Osgar saved her by careful eye, seizing his chains and yanking them downwards, which forced Artair to his knees and causing Caio to stumble with a curse.

Now was her turn to hold her head in a more stubborn position. "You will either accept aid, or be on your way with these supplies," her voice was light and composed but laced with finality. She gestured to the fallen bag with one hand, the other perched calmly at her hip. A dab of her confidence had been restored at Osgar's interference, the comfort of knowing she wasn't alone right then and there enough to ease the sting on her swollen cheek and remind her why she was there.

With a new air about her, she closed the distance between her and Caio, knowing he was the more tame of the brothers. Even still, his eyes held nothing but suspicions and anger. Forcefully grabbing his cuffed hands, she revealed the key she'd been given upon her purchase and freed him from his chains. She placed it gently into Caio's hands to allow his brother the same freedom. She wouldn't be the one to do it. She would not risk her companions having to act again.

"Where you go from here is up to you," she said calmly, looking between the pair, "However, I implore you to find Spartacus. He could help you both, and much more than I can." With that, she turned from them and returned to her friends. Saahira rushed to her, gently cupping her cheeks in soft hands and inspecting the swollen one. "Are you alright?" Saahira whispered hastily, her panic causing the question to carry a bit further than she meant it to. The Gauls had heard her, and Caio watched the two quizically for just a moment. Osgar placed himself beside the two women, never taking eye off of the Gauls. Celia gave her friend a light, airy laugh, clasping one hand over Saahira's and nodding.

"Do not fret, my friend. I will be perfectly fine." Saahira held her gaze and gave a small nod, but still looked concerned as Celia turned, locking gazes with Caio once more. Caio quickly looked from her to give his brother a harsh look before unlocking his chains. This was their chance to escape, to be free of the chains and fights and slave ships. He wouldn't allow Artair to ruin it by acting out and striking the Roman woman again-or worse. Artair grumbled a bit but stood begrudgingly, flexing his hands and glaring over at the other three.

Then, they were gone, Caio snatching the bag from the ground and the pair scurrying off the path through the trees. A sigh escaped past Celia's lips before she turned back to her friends with a smile. "Thank you both for accompanying me. I apologize for the trouble I may have caused you," Saahira gave her usual small smile, hands ever laced before her. Osgar, as always was stoic, but nodded. "I would like to continue doing what we did today, and I hope that you two can assist me further. I understand if you cannot, of course, and I will never force either of you to be at my side. But I do truly appreciate your sacrifice today," she bowed her head low to them, everything that had happened and everything she hoped would happen flooding her mind. Saahira's gentle touch was upon her arm in an instant, and she raised her head.

"I will always stand beside you. You are my dearest friend. If I were to not, I would be lost in that house, in this world." Celia smiled graciously, holding onto her best friend's hand tightly.

"As you are mine, Saahira."

"I will be your shield whenever you require me, Domina," Osgar said clearly from beside them. There was a pause before Celia laughed.

"One day, Osgar, I will break past that shell of yours and you will regard me as nothing but friend," she responded as she walked over and put a hand on his arm with a warm smile. The moment passed far too quickly before reality returned. "Well, let us return and hope no one questions our absence." She and Saahira walked alongside one another with Osgar following, both women missing the small smirk that crossed his face before vanishing as quickly as it'd appeared.


End file.
